


SILENT.

by Sarcxstic_Stilinski



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: :((, Angst, Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Body Image, Depression, Panic Attacks, Sad, Stiles has a panic attack, WTF, my sweet bby boi deserves better, now im sad, why did I make this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-17
Updated: 2018-05-17
Packaged: 2019-05-08 02:35:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14684652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sarcxstic_Stilinski/pseuds/Sarcxstic_Stilinski
Summary: Stiles was falling apart bit by bit, but no one would know that. He was loud, oh, so, loud, but he was silent.





	SILENT.

The room was closing in, or at least, it felt like it. Stiles closed his eyes tightly and covered his ear. It was too loud. It was too bright. It was too  _much_. He could feel his breathing cutting short and his hands shaking. He let out a soft cry and ran his hands through his hair, gripping the strands tightly.

He thought back to only moments before. He thought back to Scott yelling at him over something he said. He thought back to Lydia rolling her eyes and mumbling something under her breath after an argument about something pathetic. He thought back to his teacher calling him out in class for not paying attention. He couldn’t keep his mouth shut for two seconds, it seemed, and he hated it. He hated how he always had something to say. He hated how he always started arguments. He hated his mouth.

He hated his ears. He heard everything. He heard people talking about him, about how weird he was and how he was too ugly to hang out with his friends. He heard them talking about how he was looking for attention, how he knew too much about random stuff, how he was constantly trying to figure everything out. He heard the conversations the pack would have about him, the only human who tried too hard. It was as if they were screaming at him, screaming so loud. Their voices grew higher and higher, mocking him in the back of his head constantly. They were  _yelling at the top of their lungs_ , but they were silent. They didn’t say anything.

He hated his eyes. He hated how they were constantly searching for some sort of comfort on his worst days as if the pack truly cared about him. He hated how he was always wide awake or dead asleep. He hated how he looked over the small stuff in a situation because he was terrified for the truth. He hated how he saw the truth either way. He hated how he saw everything. He hated how he was able to look around and see it all, see the deception, the lies that ran rampant through the groups of kids trying so hard to fit in. He hated how he saw that he didn’t try.

He hated his body. He hated how he didn’t have strength like Scott. He hated how he wasn’t able to run as long. He hated how he was slightly pudgy even after all the exercise he participated in. It was never enough. He would never have the same physical attributes as his friends even after years and years of training because it wasn’t possible, and he hated it. He hated how he was too skinny but too big. His legs were too skinny, his shoulders too broad, his face too pudgy. He hated looking in mirrors, terrified of what he would see, but that’s all he was doing now.

Stiles stared directly into a full-body mirror he had hidden for so long, looking at himself. He looked at his tears stained cheeks, red eyes, and disheveled hair. He watched as his Adam’s apple moved up and down as he choked back sobs, trying to breathe properly. He watched his belly rise and fall, yet it maintained the same pudge of fat as before, never leaving. He watched his legs shake as if they were about to give out at any moment.

He balled his hands into a fist slowly before jumping forward and slamming it into the mirror, shattering it where his face was, the image becoming distorted just like his view on life. “I don’t want to be you anymore! I don’t want to be you! Why do I have to be you? Why was I born like this? What do I need to do to change this? I hate you!” Stiles was screaming, screaming louder than he thought he could, but he broke apart silently. Every scream that fell from his lips was another tear running down his cheek, another crack in his mold, another tear in his view of himself.

Stiles was falling apart bit by bit, but no one would know that. He was loud, oh, so, loud, but he was silent.


End file.
